


Marked

by TheStraggletag



Series: Zootopia!AU [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lion!Gold, Okapi!Belle, Predator/Prey, Weirdness, zootopia au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStraggletag/pseuds/TheStraggletag
Summary: There are some very telltale scratches on the librarian's neck, and a scent of lion about her.





	1. Scratches

He was an animal. Well, of course he was, but he was a shameful one, without any basic form of self-control. One unplanned little game of hide and seek after hours at the library, ending in a pounce and a marathonic mating session, and he’s completely and utterly lost control. Now Belle’s lovely, velvety-soft neck was marred by the imprint of his claws. Her left hip also bore the evidence of his carelessness, but even though he was equally ashamed and apologetic about those marks they at least were not on a visible place. Belle, he knew, was fond of short skirts and rather daring tops, of baring her neck and arms whenever the weather allowed for it, but now she’d be forced to cover herself to hide his brutality from the world.

He had expected to find her wearing a turtleneck or scarf and sulking when he made himself go to the library to apologise again and bring her lunch, a token of his sincere repentance. Instead he found her clad in a flower-print dress with a tasteful but rather plunging v neckline that expose at least half of her scratch marks to the world. 

He tried to make it seem like he didn’t notice, but his eyes kept drifting towards the marks, possessiveness and pride beginning to mingle with regret and shame. There was no one else in Storybrooke that could leave claw marks like those, even Madame Mayor’s mighty paw didn’t equal his in size, nor did she keep them sharp enough to do the deed. Those marks were unmistakably his and everyone in Storybrooke would know just by looking at them. And so they’d know Belle French, loveliest, kindest Belle French, let him puts his paws all over her, let him drag his claws on her soft coat and barely batted an eye when he broke the skin in a moment of unbridled passion.

Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought. Perhaps letting instinct take over every now and then wasn’t the end of the world.


	2. Scent

Belle didn’t notice a lot of changes at first, mostly a hint of trepidation in Miss Blanchard when she was around her or Miss Mills being less snappy around her. But over time it became clear that Rumford’s nuzzles and his habit of rubbing his scent glands all over her- something that he was prone to do at any given time in private, but specially after mating- was having some sort of effect. As a prey she was prone to minimising her scent. Rum was built to do the opposite, with the inevitable consequence that she began to smell like him.

She discovered, right away, that it mellowed him out. He disliked her showering and was prone to wrap himself around her as soon as she got out of the bathroom, trying to be subtle about it but failing miserably. Once she was covered in his scent he seemed satisfied and would let her get on with whatever it was she had to do. She noticed him less tense in days where he had the opportunity to mark her.

On “marked days” Ruby would smile at her like she was privy to some raunchy secret of hers. Granny would shake her head but say nothing, thankfully. The scent kept undesirables like August Booth or Arthur King away, so she didn’t complain. And she took shameless advantage of the scent to crack down on late fees and missing books, even managing to make Ashley Boyd pay for all the romances she’d ruined with her horrible habit of nibbling at the pages.

But by far the strangest reaction she had ever gotten happened when she spotted a new face in town. A fox, easy to spot even if he had his back to her as she waited behind him near the counter at Granny’s to order. Once she was close enough for him to smell he turned around violently, scanning his surroundings until he lay eyes on her, his expression turning from angry to confused.

“You’re… definitely not my pop.” His eyes narrowed and his head tilted to the side, his rather massive ears twitching. “Why do you smell like him, though?”


End file.
